Trespassed Sanctity

Orthael felt the glow of satisfaction from Judgement, who had spent lifetimes as a wrath-filled harbinger of death. It had dreamed of doing more, indeed feared that it was no longer capable of anything but destruction. The Flame had swept such darkness aside, as it had done for the swordmaiden.

It had chosen not to in Orthael, and he smoothed over the hurt with a reassurance that all would be well in the All-Consumer's own time. He rumbled in satisfaction, though his own hurt felt heavier thereby.

"The Flame finds a way, swordmaiden. It finds a way."

He watched her rise, knowing that it was something she had to do for herself, and thought upon her question.

"We should find a safe place to rest. Further up the river, at the toll bridge, the church of the parish of St Triennell the Merciful. The walls are manned and the reeve is no fool. They deserve to be warned, now that... now that Dead roam free on the Varenne."